


it's only you and me

by crystaljules



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, M/M, Pining, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 21:44:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13645038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystaljules/pseuds/crystaljules
Summary: "We're so fucking stupid."





	it's only you and me

**Author's Note:**

> First off, I want to thank [liveinfury](http://archiveofourown.org/users/liveinfury) and [tazer](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tazer) for putting together this fic fest. I can't wait to read all of the other fics in this. College/university AU is my weakness.
> 
> This is a mess. I'm so very sorry. I ran into a huge writer's block while putting this together, and I'm not sure I'm happy with how this came out. But at least it's something, right?
> 
> Hopefully, I will expand on this in the future. I've been trying to work on a longer fic for a while now, and I think this could help me out a bit. I love college/university AUs so much, and we need more of them in this fandom for sure.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads this. Your love and support is fully appreciated.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

Sitting on the dock extending into Lake Michigan while slightly buzzed probably isn’t the best idea. Patrick knows that. 

He also knows graduation  _ sucks _ , especially when it’s been almost five hours and has yet to sink in. Even as the minutes and hours inch closer to midnight, Patrick can’t fathom taking his ugly purple cap and gown off. It’ll make it all too real - make life after college too real - and he doesn’t want that right now. Not when he’s reminded that he has to pack all his shit up tomorrow and move into his downtown Chicago apartment so he can start an adult job next week. Because graduating from college means he’s a fucking adult now, which is strange.

_ Beat reporter for the Chicago Blackhawks. _

Even more strange, if you ask him.

Patrick sighs and sets his half-empty bottle of beer on the shaky dock, turns his head to the right and stares longingly at the city he fell in love with so many years ago - bright lights illuminating the city in the dark of the night, cascading shadows onto the rippling waters of the lake. He can hear the soft horns from cabs and cars on the busy roads, even though he’s more than half an hour away from the heart of the city. Patrick closes his eyes, imagines the couples and groups of friends mulling about in the streets, searching for a place to hang out and lay back, free of all worries about what the next step in life will be.

And that’s where Patrick’s at right now - worrying about what life will throw at him next. He shouldn’t be stressing over it at all; at least that’s what his mom always tells him. She claims he’s lucky he got to go to college in the city of his dreams, and he’s even luckier because he’s staying there. He’s got a solid job he worked his ass off for, and he’s looking to head back to Northwestern for grad school if his job will pay off his tuition.

It’s stupid to think he doesn’t deserve any of what he’s gotten so far in life: an awesome family, a great education, a dream job in this incredible city, wonderful friends, and so much more that can’t come to his mind at the moment because of the flow of alcohol through his bloodstream.

Which is a weird feeling. Patrick hasn’t touched a drink since fall quarter of his sophomore year when his best friend found him slumped in the corner of a frat house, lids fluttering shut from the dizziness of the haze behind his eyes. He had one too many drinks - Patrick can’t recall exactly how many his frat brothers shoved into his system that night - and drunk dialed Jonny accidentally on purpose.

‘What the fuck do you want, Patrick?’ Jonny had spat into the phone when Patrick called. Patrick knew Jonny was still mad at him from their fight earlier. Whatever. He was just being honest when Jonny confessed his undying love for his girlfriend of about six minutes earlier on, warning him that being in love is a stupid way of getting yourself let down and hurt. Patrick knew from experience, of course.

‘ _ Jonny _ ,’ Patrick whined. ‘’m so drunk, Jonny.’

‘That’s fucking wonderful. Where the fuck are you?’ Jonny questioned. Patrick made out rustling in the background, probably Jonny looking for his keys so he could find Patrick and drag him back to their dorm.

‘Um, I think I’m at the house,’ Patrick slurred in response. He had no idea where he actually was. He couldn’t remember how he got there, but he was pretty sure one of his brothers ushered him into the car after his night class and claimed it was Rush Night. Patrick was pretty sure it hadn’t been Rush Night.

On the other end of the line, Jonny sighed. ‘Alright. Okay. Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes, you got it?’

Patrick simply moaned into the phone, and Jonny groaned simultaneously, obviously annoyed with how drunk Patrick was that he couldn’t even make the trip home on his own.

Ten minutes later, Jonny scooped Patrick up in his arms and carried him out to the car. He slid Patrick into the front seat and leaned over to fasten Patrick’s seatbelt.

‘My hero,’ Patrick muttered as Jonny locked him in. Jonny chuckled.

‘Yeah. You better be thanking me, even more, tomorrow when I have to Advil your ass up,’ he replied. Patrick simply moaned yet again.

The drive home was fairly quiet, soft alternative music playing in the background. The rumbling of Jonny’s beat down Jeep was what mostly kept Patrick awake until they got back to the room. Patrick was insistent on walking in on his own, but after he stumbled out of the car and almost busted ass on the sidewalk, Jonny picked him up again and carried him to his bed.

‘I feel like a princess,’ Patrick mumbled under his breath, eyes closed as he leaned his head on Jonny’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around Jonny’s neck. Jonny scoffed, and Patrick simply knew he was rolling his eyes.

‘You are anything but,’ Jonny responded as he juggled Patrick around until he got the door open.

Patrick didn’t say anything as Jonny dumped him on the bed and struggled to get the covers on top of Patrick, who blinked at him. Once Jonny got him settled in, he pat the edge of the covers near Patrick’s shoulders.

‘There we go. Night night, Pattycakes,’ Jonny joked with a small smile, turning on his heel and stripping himself of his navy blue V-neck. Patrick wanted to close his eyes and pass out so bad, but Jonny getting naked was a show in itself, and he couldn’t fall asleep just yet.

He eyed the muscles in Jonny’s back as they shifted with his every movement. Jonny pushed through the wardrobe to find pajama bottoms he could slide on with ease before tucking himself into bed and burying himself in homework. Patrick was used to this; it was the same routine every single night for the two of them. But now, Patrick blinked slowly as his eyes scanned over Jonny and his incredible body - something Patrick had always been attracted to. There was no denying it, especially not when he was drunk.

‘Jonny,’ Patrick called out after a few minutes of no conversation. Jonny tilted his head forward and sighed.

‘What, Pat?’ he asked carefully, voice on the edge of annoyance.

Obviously Patrick doesn’t remember what he mumbled to Jonny that night, but he knows it’s different now than it used to be.

He hates it. He’ll never admit it to anyone, especially not Jonny. Instead, he reminisces of the times when Jonny flashed him that smile specifically reserved for Patrick. He hasn’t seen it in a long time. Too long, he realizes - the night Patrick got the internship with the Tribune before junior year.

Patrick greatly misses Jonny’s touch, too. It’s stupid to yearn for it - small brushes of Jonny’s hand on his shoulder, Jonny’s knee tapping against his while they study for hours upon hours in the library, Jonny’s foot hooking around his as they scarf down deep dish pizza (which is not pizza when it comes to Patrick’s standards because New York) at Giordano’s - and yet he does. All of the time.

When he thinks about it, Patrick realizes he and Jonny haven’t had one-on-one time since that night he was so obliterated he couldn’t even remember what he said that bothered Jonny so much. It’s always him and Jonny and a bunch of other people, but never the two of them alone, and Patrick can’t believe he didn’t see it until now.

The taste of beer in Patrick’s mouth turns sour, and he cringes before picking up the beer bottle and dumping the remaining liquid into the lake.

Jesus. It’s one thing to miss your best friend, but it’s completely different to miss the touches and smiles from him, too. Patrick sighs and pulls his knees to his chest, resting his head on them and gazing out at the reflection of lights on the small waves in the water.

“That’s not very nice to the environment, you dipshit,” someone says from behind Patrick, monotone voice dripping with sarcasm. Patrick closes his eyes and cringes.

He knows exactly who it is. He can’t bring himself to crane his neck to the side to catch a glimpse of him though.

Jonny takes a few steps closer to Patrick, who digs his chin further into his arms. He can make out Jonny bending down and planting himself to the left of Patrick, a warm body now filling to cold, empty void beside him. Patrick takes a deep breath.

Silence fills the air, only the soft swish of the waters and intermingled breaths breaking it. It’s something Patrick has always enjoyed about their friendship: the ability to sit in a complete lull with comfort. It’s the easiest thing about them.

Patrick chews on his lower lip as he listens to Jonny give a grave sigh.

“So this is it,” Jonny mutters, shifting back and forth. Patrick cracks an eye open and glances sideways at him moving to get in the same position as Patrick.

Jonny’s dressed the same as Patrick: ugly purple gown, white dress shirt, black dress pants, obnoxious purple Crocs. Patrick chuckles to himself as he eyes them, reminding him of the stupid promise they made late freshman year to wear something stupid at their college graduation

‘Like Crocs,’ Patrick said. Jonny burst out laughing, almost in tears, rolled off his bed in their dorm and onto the floor. Patrick narrowed his eyes at Jonny, took another sip of his beer and grew annoyed with how ridiculous Jonny was being. He was fucking serious.

‘Dude, that’s so fucking dumb,’ Jonny replied once he caught his breath, looked directly at Patrick. ‘I’m not wearing that shit to our college graduation.’

Patrick shrugged, glanced above Jonny’s head so he didn’t stare right into his eyes. It freaked him out sometimes, how much Jonny was able to make his entire body flush with embarrassment, even if it was over nothing.

‘Why not?’ Patrick countered. Jonny raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, come on, dude.’ Patrick slid off the bed and onto the floor next to Jonny, who watched his every move until Patrick wrapped an arm around Jonny’s shoulder. ‘It’s so us, if you really think about it.’

Jonny elbowed him in the side. ‘How so?’

Patrick shrugged again, took the last sip of his beer and cringed while he swallowed the gunk at the bottom of the bottle. ‘I don’t know. We’re dumb. Crocs are dumb.’

Now, Patrick’s looking at the Crocs and laughing.

“We’re so fucking stupid,” he tells Jonny, voice cracking. He shakes his head, trying to shake the feeling of Jonny’s eyes on him.

He can’t. It’s impossible - it’s always been difficult for Patrick to ignore Jonny - to pretend Jonny’s eyes aren’t boring holes in Patrick’s body right now. So Patrick slowly lifts his head, examines every inch of Jonny’s body as if he’s taking a picture and ingraining it in his memory until he meets Jonny’s eyes.

Patrick’s heart stutters. He can’t quite determine the look in Jonny’s eyes and the way they’re searching Patrick’s face, searching for an answer to something. Patrick tries to follow them, but he can’t keep up until they settle back on his own and his body seizes up.

Jonny does, too. Patrick can see the way his muscles tense underneath the gown and dress shirt, abs tightening up so hard Patrick could run his fingers along the harsh lines and be able to determine how many there are, even though he already knows Jonny’s got an eight pack. He notices the way Jonny’s jaw clicks, sharp lines defined even more by how tense it is. Jonny sucks his lips in, the way he does when he’s worried, and Patrick yearns to run his thumb along Jonny’s jawline and force him to loosen up.

Instead, Patrick lifts a hand and cups Jonny’s cheek, slipping his fingers behind the curve of Jonny’s ear and grazes his thumb along Jonny’s cheekbone. He swipes it underneath the circle beneath Jonny’s eye. Jonny blinks lazily, and Patrick sees how close they are now. He could probably scoot a little closer until their lips are a mere centimeter apart, tilt Jonny’s face to his until their foreheads knock together and they’re staring at each other cross-eyed.

He doesn’t, though. He lets the moment hang between them, swipes his tongue across his lower lip, watches Jonny watch him do it, and shudders when Jonny slides a hand up Patrick’s thigh to his side and all the way up until he tangles his fingers in Patrick’s hair. It’s shorter now than a few years ago when Jonny did this all the time in Patrick’s bed, limbs tangled together and Jonny’s shirt usually wet with Patrick’s tears after Jonny’s calmed him down. But Jonny’s massaging his scalp now just like he used to after Patrick’s drunken breakdowns or panic attacks.

Patrick hasn’t had a panic attack nor a drunken breakdown in a long time. He fixed it all after that night Jonny picked him from the frat house. The night Patrick drowned his feelings and sorrows in alcohol and misery. The night he took advantage of the one person that’s done everything for him since the moment they met, and continues to do so without rhyme or reason. Patrick never understood it, why Jonny stood by Patrick’s side until that night when he must’ve finally had enough.

But right now, Jonny’s looking at Patrick like he wants to be there again. Wants to be back in their dorm that night next to Patrick’s bed, listening to Patrick spew compliments and endearments and “I love you” at him until he softly presses his lips to Patrick’s temple once he’s passed out.

At least that’s what Patrick senses happened. He doesn’t try to understand now, though. Just relishes in the moment of Jonny’s body pressed up against his, forgetting the world around them for just a bit until they vanish back into reality.

Jonny rubs his thumb gently over the pulse in Patrick’s neck, and chuckles lightly. Patrick sucks in his breath when Jonny leans in and brushes his lips against the corner of Patrick’s mouth. The warmth of Jonny’s touch electrifies Patrick’s body, and the words dance on the tip of his tongue. Jonny closes his eyes and sighs while Patrick massages the curve of his jaw, pressing the confession into his skin. Jonny grips Patrick’s neck with his fingertips, doing the same.

“You’re right,” Jonny whispers against Patrick’s cheek. “We’re so fucking stupid.”

Patrick can feel the corner of Jonny’s mouth quirk up into a smirk. Patrick smiles right back.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr at [schmltz](http://schmltz.tumblr.com)


End file.
